


Mission First

by Miri1984



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Aftermath of Injury, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21788596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984
Summary: Oh hey they have matching scars now! Kinda sorta. Oscar isn't pleased.
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 9
Kudos: 109





	Mission First

He could overlook the tattered remnants of Zolf’s pants and coat, could overlook the adoring eyes of Hamid’s new kobold follower. He could even deal with the barely contained glee pouring off Cel at the thought of new technology on the island, ready to be ransacked and built anew in interesting and probably horrendously dangerous ways.

He could overlook all of that, because they were back, and they were safe, and of course they’d been successful.

Of course they had.

But when Zolf turned his head to say something to Hamid and Oscar saw the puckering mess of scar tissue on his temple, it took all his willpower not to rush forward and demand an explanation on the spot.

That was not the kind of injury that one walked away from without a great deal of magic, and as Hamid explained the ins and outs of the details of their laborious trawl through Shouin’s institute, Oscar’s eyes kept going back to Zolf’s face, running up and over the scar, searching for any other signs of injury. 

Zolf was mostly silent, hands clasped in front of him while Hamid and the others spoke, but at one point, when Cel was excitedly explaining the mechanisms at work in the lightning tower (the one Zolf had climbed, the one Zolf had hacked to bits with his glaive, the one where Zolf had been  _ struck by lightning)  _ Oscar caught him look up at Oscar and give a warning shake of his head. Oscar tore his eyes away and back to the others. Cel was looking at him with one eyebrow raised and Oscar was composed enough to deadpan back at them, but the alchemist was far too observant for their own good.

When the rest of the party was dismissed, Oscar was proud of how steady his voice was when he asked Zolf to stay and even managed to ignore the slight smirk on Cel’s lips as they pushed past him to the door.

Zolf stayed, hands on his hips, glaring at Oscar in a manner with an expression that from previous experience, was usually followed by a headbutt. “Before you even start, I’m fine, Azu healed me, I’ve had worse. It’s fine.”

Oscar crossed his arms over his chest. It was that or pull Zolf into an embrace and that wasn’t allowed. Not now. 

_ Not yet. _

“You said you’d be careful,” he said, instead.

“You think I wasn’t?”

“You got hit by lightning.Twice.”

“The mission was successful, Wilde, we did what we set out to do and none of us are dead and I knew what I was doing.”

“Hit by lightning. Twice. And then skewered through the  _ head  _ Zolf, I have a lot invested in that head I don’t want you…”

Zolf stepped forward, sharply jabbing one finger into Oscar’s chest, hard enough so that his arms dropped to his sides. “You’re the one who said the mission had to come first. Right back when we started this. I knew what I was doing. I  _ know  _ what I’m doing. You’re supposed to  _ trust _ me.”

“I do!”

“It don’t sound like it right now!”

Oscar heaved in a breath. This wasn’t what the argument was about, and both of them knew it.

“I trust you to get the work done, you know that.”

Zolf looked at him for a long moment. Then he took a breath. When he spoke again his voice was lower, softer, with a tone in it that also wasn’t allowed. Not now.

Not yet.

“You’re letting it get to you,” Zolf said. “We agreed we wouldn’t… we  _ said that.. _ and I can’t...”

“At least let me have a look at it,” Oscar interrupted. This was old ground. There was no point in going over it again.

Zolf gave a frustrated snort. “Azu healed it. And then I did. It’s  _ fine  _ Oscar...” but he tilted his head a little so Oscar could get a better look. Oscar reached up and gently brushed hair away from Zolf’s temple, exposing the full extent of the scar, knotted flesh spreading in a star from just below Zolf’s hairline to the top of his cheek. He brushed his thumb over the expanse of it, imagining the size of the spike that had made it, that had driven into flesh and somehow, miraculously, not instantly ended Zolf’s life.

Zolf’s skin was warm and he could feel the steady thrum of his pulse under his fingers, fingers which he suddenly realised were trembling.  _ So close. He’d come so close to losing him… _

He became aware of Zolf’s breath coming faster, the pulse under his fingers tripping up a notch. “Oscar,” he murmured, and Oscar let his eyes flicker down to catch Zolf’s, which were wide and full of too many things to say out loud. “Don’t.”

He was thumbing the edge of the scar, Oscar realised, a soft, careful caress, nothing like the clinical examination he was supposed to be doing.

“You nearly died,” Oscar said.

“For the mission,” Zolf said, and reached up to still Oscar’s hand, resolutely pulling it away from his face. He didn’t let go, though and Oscar didn’t try to stop himself from lacing their fingers, holding on a little too tightly.

“This is not… not a good idea Oscar,” Zolf said. “Hamid and the others are just…”

“I know,” Oscar said. “I’ll be all professionalism in a minute.”

“You’re never all professionalism.”

“As professional as I ever get, then,” he said, and brought Zolf’s hand to his lips, pressing it against his mouth and shutting his eyes, breathing in the scent of Zolf’s skin. He was alive. He’d come so close to death but he was alive, and they had a mission to complete.

“Oscar,” Zolf said again, and Oscar nodded. Drew in a deep breath through his nose. Let go of Zolf’s hand.

“Mission first,” he said, and Zolf nodded, and Oscar pretended not to hear the catch in his voice when Zolf replied. 

“Mission first.”


End file.
